


Interrogation Scene

by Hawkie4



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-20
Updated: 2016-01-20
Packaged: 2018-05-15 03:33:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5769679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hawkie4/pseuds/Hawkie4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SPOILER ALERT : STAR WARS THE FORCE AWAKENS</p><p>An exact retelling of the interrogation scene in which Kylo Ren tries to get Rey to show him the map via mind control.</p><p>A/N: Names are not used in this. 'He' is referring to Kylo Ren, and 'she' is referring to Rey. </p><p>Notes: Told in third person, focusing mainly on Kylo's view. Will probably be biased. POSTING THIS WAS A SCARY CHALLENGE</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interrogation Scene

He'd lost track of time, yet he knew it had been a long while waiting there. Sitting in that cool room, surrounded by apathetic walls, waiting for her to rustle. In that time he'd been studying her. She did not seem a foe. Delicate in a weak, yet enchanting way. As much as he tried, he was annoyed to think fondly of her. Perhaps that wasn't the right word, but then again he couldn't rightly describe it. It was a feeling he didn't recognize, didn't remember the name for.

With a jolt, she finally woke up. For a moment she struggled against the restraints, accepting the truth easily.

"Where am I?" She looks to him, her chest rising steadily. She wants to be calm, but her voice betrays her unease.

"You're my guest." He has been looking at her, looking since before she was conscious. 

"Where are the others?" She questions. 

"You mean the murderers, traitors and thieves you call friends." It is not a question. He will not give her the privilege of defending them, let alone answering. "You'll be relieved to hear I have no idea." She keeps quiet, but it is not words that tell him what she's feeling. Its the tics in between his sentences. Her quick blinking, her tight swallowing. He knows she is listening. He simmers in the fact she is perturbed. 

"You still want to kill me?" He does not say it in the inquiring tone, but as he does he cocks his head.

"That happens when you're being hunted by a creature in a mask." Her response carries a small amount of poison with it. A poison that he chooses to counter. 

Reaching for the head gear, he starts to lift it. The chin pops out, clanging with effort. She could think the set hasn't been removed in a long time. Standing up, he brings the helmet away from his face. He can be no more than 30, she reasons. Black hair frames his light features, including a pair of pink upcurved lips. Her expression changes again. Without the mask sealing his vision, he can better notice the furrow of her brows, the surprise that comes with really seeing him. He was not whatever she might have envisioned. He is a person, normal and youthful as she, identity hidden by mystery, appearance guarded by choice. 

Her gaze averts him. It pleases him to correct her in such a form that she cannot agree with the mistake of her ideal. 

Plonking the mask on an ash tray, he approaches her shackle-rest. She tussles uncomfortably, something else to dulge in.

"Tell me about the droid." He encourages. 

"He's a BB unit with a selenium drive and a thermal hyposcan indic-" She is attempting to be smart. He interrupts her.

"Its carrying a section of a navigation chart. And we have the rest. Recovered from the archives of the Empire, but we need the last piece. And somehow you convinced the droid to show it to you." He pauses, letting the information sink in. "You. A scavenger." She glances down, fidgeting. He is close to her, enough that he can appreciate the anxiety he causes.

"You know I can take whatever I want." Whether he reminded her or himself of who was in charge he could not tell. That statement gives him confidence. He has the advantage of training over her, and that makes him feel good.

He raises his hand right next to her head, summoning her thoughts. She turns away, grimacing. She's fighting him, but she doesn't have the strength to protect herself. He comes nearer still, clearly interpreting the memories. "You're so lonely. So afraid to leave." He's silent then, concentrating. "At night, desperate to sleep." He taunts. Whatever she is thinking he sees it, shaped into a vision that appears in his own mind. 

"You imagine an ocean." He can see it, the great expanse of water. There is something else in the middle. "I see it. I see the island."

He does not expect to see his father. The man he has tried so hard to ignore, right there in front of him. Nevertheless she must not know he is surprised. "And Han Solo." He continues, probing deeper into her memories. "You feel like he's the father you never had. He would have disappointed you." 

"Get out of my head." She says it with conviction, her teeth grated.

"I know you've seen the map." He stands back, though he keeps his telepathetic hold. "It's in there. And now you'll give it to me." He can find nothing. She's holding back. "Don't be afraid, I feel it too." 

"I'm not giving you anything."

"We'll see." The tension is beyond measurable. There is a mounting pressure on him as the connection falters. She is stronger than he guessed. Her whole body is challenging him. An invisible force is building around her, as well as knocking through his walls. He can sense her intrusion. To push her out would be a risk of losing the progress he's made. It is getting harder to break forward. The weight is off her; she is turning it on him.

"You. You're afraid. That you will never be as strong as Darth Vader." She has withstood his advances. He has lost to his insecurity. He pushes her out of his mind, away from him, her head almost slamming back into the seat. Among the feelings inside him, there is shock, anger, and respect. The latter crumbles immediately.


End file.
